Poetry · Writing

tootsie roll

i walked a line

that was drawn for me

words were not my friend i found comfort in the arms of another

before the pen was my pillow

i needed you to find the center of a tootsie roll pop

i couldn’t rely on my own will

on my own path

on my own words

bleeding was just casual

love was always occasionally

direction was always running in after the bell rang on a monday morning with one shoe and no backpack;


always after the test was done-

always after the she found another-

always too late

Poetry · Writing

like a movie;

you bring out the best in me:

when you are around, i wear my shiniest shoes

my best shirt always tucked in and a clean jacket-

i walk in a straight line

when we go out to dinner i pull out your chair

i always pay the fare loving you is all too rare

you support all my endeavours

i’ll give a dollar you’ll give two

when i made my debut

it was you

sitting in the front row ready for a show

and you’ll tell me it was great-

and all i remember were your cheers

you break down all of my fears

like clockwork you are all of my gears

i’ll never leave your side, you can have all of my years

Poetry · Writing

truth of the day

chances are

i have seen the worlds true colors

bright amber in the morning

dusk ivy in the evening-

greed only calls in the night

at the door past 2am-

uses her key, the one i gave all those years ago

the smell of her perfume send me clawing at the wall

she’ll leave the next morning –

blood fresh under her fingernails, heels in her relaxed fingers

and the amber rays will watch the flesh

heal on the day

makin’ the day

feelin’ the day

here for the day.

Poetry · Writing

bowl of worship

i have known you

walked with you

seen you walk through fire and get burned

but you believed you wouldn’t-

i have seen others walk the same

but i put worship in your bowl

i thought you were immune

but you are human like the rest of us

skin on your bones love and hate in your heart

balanced- in your eyes i see you have


not the same fluff in your step

but i envy you

not everyone could have taken that leap into a world of question

so i leave the worship in your bowl

i think you will get through the fire

next time-

Poetry · Writing

lake of mine;

i need you-

i don’t understand why that is so hard to admit,

i am someone who won’t ask for help

even when everything is flooded and i’ve lost an oar

and when no one else is coming or can even see the water

you; but with you, you i need around,

the feel of your hands on mine

leaves a chill down my spine

the soft voice echoing, saying everything will be alright

lips on my ear, everything will be alright

you are the other oar when i am drowning

when the day is beautiful;

and the day is ours to enjoy

and i am never drowning

Poetry · Writing


there is something special

about being needed-

knowing that you make someones day

just by doing something little

that a small task can turn make their week

i long for it

going on a trip and i want to be marked essential

not that i have potential and more than influential

pick me up and don’t put me down

i am-

i am

Poetry · Writing

same problem – different day

and it is always me

caught in the darkest corner of my mind

wandering aimlessly destroying the structure that wasn’t

in the last invasion claiming the lives of more innocent thoughts-

i can put down the knife but i can’t hide it

when i am not looking, i will continue to cut and stab and kill

until this home is a crime scene;

there are only a few calm moments

a voice that sends me, the other me

running- running to a place i have yet to evict

to a place he calls home that has it all put together


when i am gone:

picket fence repainted

door mat dusted

time for books to be placed back on the shelf

photo albums rebound

dinner in the oven

albums placed next to the sega genesis





Poetry · Writing

tree bearing

statue once

turned into a tree in broad day light

on broad street

public art they called it

splattered across all headlines-

now i stand, waiting

just waiting for something to change in the stars or the weather

or a god to have pity (any god)

but they are why i am a tree


posing, wishing for rain to comfort

my heels fell in abusive clay

sporting pink buds

littered cigarette buds

and i am standing


on broad street

growing flowers as finger nails

watching children grow

feeling their toes

now only a dream

Poetry · Writing

cupid’s dmv

steady hand

the god with the steadiest and he never misses

truth sight and a bond issued

we waited our turn for something this real

love this real

not the temporary they handout to appease you

they can’t be the one to please you

cupid has not found your one;

number forty-two thousand and ninety three-

hoping it is our turn, i will finally have my number called

not this year

or the next

others picked what seems at random

what is it that they have but not i

challenge them for the love that i believe to deserve

enough is enough and temporary handouts it is enough

they don’t deserve this as much as i

will hold hands in line together

and wait for our chance;

Poetry · Writing

god’s arcade

chance is-

we get a second chance with another life

a god puts quarters into a game

and we reboot in a new body

new memories new family new lovers

in that life i never touch a pen

i carry a ball and a glove

a gun and knife

a purse and a baby-


we live in the shadow of our god

the one pushing quarters to give us life

and we chase the same love they look for

and that’s why i always find myself in your arms